The Path Untraveled
by ryddance
Summary: Yassen appears as the beginning of a rising power. Loyalties will be tested. Alex is once again caught up with our favorite assassin, what will his choices be and what about the consequences? Rated for swearing and violence. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Anything and everything recognizable from the books...is mine. NOT. That stuff belongs to Anthony Horowitz. Jeez I ****_wish_**** it belonged to me.**

**_Warning: There will be violence, language, and graphic . Hopefully nothing too graphic though. No torture. No slash. Yeah._**

**This****is my first fanfic. Like, my virgin fanfic. I started it but I kind of left it, I didn't finish. I got maybe 1000 words in before I went to write Doing Nothing. Behold, I am coming back to it. I left it to write Doing Nothing—my 1****st ****finished, published Fiction.**

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Chapter 1

Ben Daniels looked at Yassen Gregorovich and nearly shivered at the cold, heartless eyes of the assassin, whom was once thought to be dead.

After months of hard work, Ben was trusted. Or at least as trusting Gregorovich would get. It had taken a near-sacrifice and the murders of others by his hand to finally ease the constant suspicions of Gregorovich and to get him to even begin accepting Ben, but Ben knew that he would never be fully trusted.

Now was almost the time to act. Gregorovich was planning the assassination of a potentially revolutionizing guest speaker. "Inform Campbell and Azarov that the plane will leave early tomorrow morning." Ben nodded and turned to walk silently out the door. He felt the assassin's eyes bore into his back until he closed the door behind him, allowing his breath to whoosh out in a releasing of his own nervous tension. Immediately Ben started cursing himself in his head.

Did he feel tenser than before other jobs? Yes, definitely, and that was what worried him. Gregorovich was a master assassin; trained to pick up on the little details, to notice things, and to hide things—his reactions, suspicions, fears. Working with one of the top assassins in the world was _nerve-wracking_. Any second he could decide you'd outlived your usefulness or done something offensive. _Tread carefully._

Entering the sitting room, he rested his eyes on Yaromir Azarov, who was carefully cleaning his preferred gun with practiced hands. Truthfully, if Azarov wasn't an assassin, Ben would have liked the Russian. _Assassins don't make friends,_ he thought. Azarov had humor and emotions it seemed. He was an old pro, who was content to be told what jobs to do and had done much in his younger years. He was soon to be retired and Ben suspected he had even earned Gregorovich's respect in some way. He supposed it was his knack for living—hardly an assassin lived to grow old. Azarov was careful and appeared leery of strangers, but had taken a… sort of liking to Ben.

A few times when Ben had slipped with his own emotions, Azarov had covered for him with his own humor and opinions. Afterwards, he would look at Ben with something indecipherable in his hard brown eyes. It was those glances that let Ben know Azarov had his back. It made him feel a tad guilty.

Now Campbell… he was young, about 21 or 22. Younger than Ben. He had been hired along with Azarov. Unlike Azarov, he had startling blue eyes of ice. Crazy eyes to match him. He wasn't particularly muscled or strong. He was good with his explosives, the only reason Gregorovich had accepted him or at least tolerated him. That and his hatred of the government. Why he hated it so much was lost on Ben, maybe a past experience or grudge. He wasn't going to last. His mind was sick and it wouldn't be long before his boss would tire and put a bullet in his brain—Campbell was a pain in the ass and always found ways to push everyone's buttons.

Ben crossed over to behind the recliner and Azarov looked up from his work. "We leave for the business trip tomorrow morning." Azarov nodded and proceeded in his work. Campbell glared up at him from sofa where he was sorting ingredients for his homemade explosives. He muttered and glared but returned to his work. The only time he was sane it seemed, was when he was making bombs. Even then, he had a crazy air of fervency to his movements.

The next day, the team convened at the park of their target's city. The plane ride had gone smoothly and their weapons were safely concealed in their lead-lined suitcases (A/N). They had traveled separately to lessen the chances of getting caught. And if one got caught, the rest would continue with the mission. Once they found each other at the park, they continued on to a local safe house to go over the plan.

Ben would keep surveillance for any suspicious activity on the ground. Campbell would rig the target's car for the possibility of his escape, however slim. Azarov would 'befriend' the target by playing the old man card; who would suspect a seemingly-frail old fart? He could act well. When he put on his act, you would never suspect a strong, capable assassin. Gregorovich would wait behind a door while Azarov led the target past. He would jump out and incapacitate him. He would question him and then he would kill him.

_Oh, this was not going well. _It was getting too far along. Alex wanted to groan in frustration at the incompetence. He was going in undercover as one of the audience. Evidently the crazy guy of Yassen's had some explosives on him that were unstable and something had caused them to explode. The result was… not pretty. Now everyone was in a panic.

Alex pushed against the flow of people and spotted Yassen duck through a door going after Azarov and the target. He cursed as someone, who was gigantic thank-you-very-much, knocked him to the ground. Someone stepped on his hand, _ouch_. He then felt a strong hand on his shoulder pull him up.

It was Ben.

"Alex, what are you doing here?" He looked at this dark-haired boy in disguise with a sinking feeling. "They pulled you in. Why? We've got this handled."

Alex laughed. "No offense, but does this look handled to you? And we've got reason to believe that there is a traitor in our ranks. I am here just to suss them out so they don't blow the whole operation. Now, only you know I am here, and the target is in danger so let's go save his ass." Without a backwards glance, Alex moved off in the direction door he saw Yassen disappear through. The door opened to a hall. At the end of the hall, it split off into two directions so he and Ben split up. Time was of the essence.

Most of the civilians were cleared out now and several SAS teams entered, some with guns at the ready and others helping a few lagging people. Yassen evidently had called backup. Prearranged—he apparently didn't fully trust his team to get the job done, and he was right. Campbell had blown it **(A/N: Pun intended)**. He knew that his plan would somehow be discovered, so unbeknownst to the others of his group, he had gathered his own small army to distract any authorities while he got the job done. And now, dozens of black-clad villains flooded the area, attacking the SAS, who retaliated. The floor was slick with blood.

Alex came to a half-closed door and peered in. There was Yassen and his target. The unfortunate man was sat in a chair, and Yassen was yielding a rather large, serrated knife that was already covered in blood. Alex nearly sighed in relief to see that the scared man was well but for a few shallow cuts and bruises.

He silently pushed open the door. "Yassen." Alex's voice was soft, with a cold undercurrent. "Let the man go." He raised his gun and trained it on the lithe body of the assassin. The man turned to stare at Alex. And smiled. Huh. Creeepy.

"Ah, little Alex. What brings you here?" For a brief second, his countenance morphed into something akin to amusement before effortlessly resuming the cold stare of a deadly assassin.

"I think you'll find that this is what I do, Yassen."

"Yes, of course. You work for MI6, no? But I recently heard it was unwillingly." He trained a smile on his lips. "What do they use?"

"I fail to see how it concerns you. Put the knife down."

Shrugging, the assassin casually tossed the knife well out of his reach. "You could join me. I had hoped you would never tolerate working with the people who murdered your father. We would appreciate you and care for you."

"Who is 'we'? Last I checked most of Scorpia was in the ground."

Yassen appeared to look slightly annoyed by that fact. "Yes. I heard about your clash with my old employers. However I have built my own organization."

"Still, no thank you."

Yassen's face quickly morphed into an oily, persuasive mask, and his voice was like heavy silk. "Alex, you would no longer be forced into missions, we would take care of your loved ones, you could live a normal life—and be free of MI6." He took a small step forward.

Alex looked at him blankly, betraying none of the pain and longing he felt. A life spent free, able to live in peace. "I couldn't do that. I'm in too deep, and I've become addicted to the rush of adrenaline and action. I would go stir crazy just sitting around, leading a normal life. I have accepted the facts."

"Then work for us, for me. You would no longer be a puppet to be thrown which way, the members of my organization are appreciated, those who have rightfully earned anyway—and you would have no trouble—"

"Yassen!" Alex raised his voice in a frustrated manner. "You are an assassin, a terrorist, you and your organization will go around and use _methods_," he spat the word in disgust. "To get what you want, or to _dominate the world_, or whatever other shit you want to do. This is not about what I want for myself. This is about the thousands, _millions_ of other people out there that would have died if not for me stopping people like Sayle, Dr. Grief, General Sarov, Damian Cray, Rothman…_ya get the picture?_" Alex's voice steadily flowed into the 'sarcastic-and-exasperated' range. "Hell, _children _were the primary targets of a few of these psychos. Granted, a few of them had 'little-itty-bitty-dick-syndrome'*****, but I mean come _on_, that is no excuse! Harod Sayle wanted to kill a bunch of school children to get revenge on the Prime Minister for being bullied by him as a kid! What a dick! Live and learn! I may have been reluctant, but in the end I understood. Oh, I still ah, _dislike _Blunt with a passion, and I will never forgive him, but I _understand._" Alex broke the word into three separate quietly spoken syllables. "What choice do I have? I would never be able to live with myself if I let so many people die because I sat by and did nothing." ******

Alex stopped and glared at Yassen. "No," he said quietly. "I just couldn't do it. I couldn't work for you, and I would _appreciate_ it if you would let the man go."

During Alex's rant, Yassen stared at him with a mild look of amusement. And, if anyone was present who knew the assassin, truly knew him, they would have been able to discern the slightest look of pity and sorrow. Yassen stared at Alex before he raised his hands reassuringly, and reached behind the chair, untying his target. The target quickly shot out of the chair and was out of the room in a flash. Alex inwardly sighed and hoped MI6 found him before Yassen's men.

Somehow, Yassen seemed to know what Alex was thinking. "Oh, little Alex. Do not worry about him. He was never in any real danger." Yassen smirked lightly as Alex tensed. "Golov." Alex half-turned to see a ginormous, heavily muscled, scowling man enter the room through the door. He acted as a great door himself.

"Who's grumpy-face here?" Alex demanded, backing up to keep both in his sight. Yassen didn't even grace him with an answer, just raised a single eyebrow. Without taking his eyes off Alex, he informed Golov that he was no longer required to wait here. "Tell the others that Plan B is in operation. I may as well make some use of this little visit. Goodbye, little Alex." Before Alex could remember his gun, Yassen disappeared behind a door that was hidden from Alex's view. Always have an escape route.

Alex cursed and went to find Ben to update him.

In the auditorium, chaos ensued. Alex looked on worriedly. He had to find a way to stop this, to greatly weaken the enemy somehow. He had to find Yassen Gregorovich.

But first update Ben. He spotted him slipping through a backdoor. Cursing, Alex scrambled out of the way of two men engaged in battle, and went after him. Once through the door, Ben was easy enough to find. He was mumbling and shuffling around some papers spread on the floor.

Ben stiffened when Alex cleared his throat, letting him know that he was there. It would not be fun to startle a spy hopped up on adrenaline. "Ben," Alex informed quietly. "Gregorovich isn't here for the guest speaker, he was here for me, to convince me to join him. When that plan didn't pan out, he initiated a back-up plan. I still don't know what it is though."

Ben turned from his search to look at Alex. His face was tense, and his eyes held a trace of fear. "Alex. I didn't find Gregorovich on my hall, but by the time I got to yours, you were all cleared out. The guest speaker is fine. A couple of our agents managed to pick him up. I was informed by HQ to look for some plans." Here he grabbed a few of the wrinkled papers and held them up for Alex, who took one to study. "This is most probably what he would want. Alex_,_ these….these, in the wrong hands could do _damage!_ The flash drive of these is missing!"

Alex looked at the files which lay open on the floor. "What are these?"

"Various projects and plans. One is of a skeleton key to open any lock, another is a lightweight, flexible bulletproof vest that distributes force—less painful, easier to just keep on going. There's another guest that wasn't going to make a public presentation, but was going to present his research on genetic modification to the Board. Research on regrowing limbs, superhealing, strength increase, speed increase, things like that. The speaker was going to present the vest. The key was going to be presented to the Board afterwards. Everything in these files is on the flash drive."

"If Scorpia gets a hold of these, they would monopolize the products. The government would get zip and criminal organizations; Gregorovich's would especially benefit." Alex studied the plans in his hand with a troubled expression. "Ben, these genetic modifications could be used as a weapon, making assassins genetically altered, giving them a huge advantage. Who knows what they could branch off of this baseline."

Leaning back, Alex took a calming breath and regained the professionalism of a trained spy. "Now that we know what he is after, we need to do everything we can to stop him. The prototype of the vest is here somewhere. We need to prevent him from getting it, but foremost we need to regain possession of the flash drive."

"The key is here too." Ben inserted. "The speaker was planning on giving a demonstration to some representatives of the government. It would be here."

"Okay, we'll have to split and cover as much ground as we can. Find the prototypes before they do, but if they already found them, obtain them through any means necessary. Who knows where the prototypes have gotten to in all this chaos."

The auditorium was the center of the building. Alex could hear the sounds of combat just behind the door in front of him. Cracking the door, he planned his route to the other side. He would take the least dense route, weaving, and rolling with the punches.

Alex was just about to make a dash for it when he spotted Yassen. Before he could lose him, Alex made a beeline towards him, planning on a confrontation. Before he could reach him, one of the larger balaclava-clad men intercepted him, perhaps recognizing him as Alex Rider.

Everything about this man screamed lethal. His eyes were cold and black, but smirked as he cut Alex's path off and engaged in combat. He moved with a grace that seemed improbable for a man of his size, movements flowing easily from step to step, obviously a master of martial arts. He carried himself with an air of experience and confidence, and Alex knew that this was an ex-Scorpia assassin.

Alex ducked, blocked, side-stepped, twisted, and retaliated. Power resonated in every blow, and he was swift in his blocks. Alex used his small stature to his best advantage, working to gain the upper hand. Once again, Lady Luck saved Alex. A black-clad assassin from another battle stumbled back onto the floor behind Alex's own opponent. The assassin tripped over his fallen comrade and Alex dove for the chance, quickly hitting a pressure point and knocking him out.

What Alex failed to notice was a lean, balaclava-clad man sneaking up behind him.

When the assassin wrapped his arm around his throat, Alex reflexively reached up to claw at it, twisting, exposing his belly. He jerked as something slid into him. A fiery pain erupted in his center, spreading through his chest and stomach and up his back.

The last thing his saw as time slowed down and his world dimmed was the blond-haired, lithe figure of an assassin aiming his gun at him. A shot rang out and he saw nothing as he tumbled down to the ground and the dark abyss crept, oozed up to meet him, the ringing in his ears fending off every other sound.

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**Warning: ANs are my place to be a chatterbox.**

**David Attenborough's voice: There's a little writing tool that is simple yet very catching. It has a wonderful skill to draw the reader in and capture the imagination and intrigue of all who gaze upon the words. Never does it fail to pique interest. It has a tendency to make the reader groan in frustration or exasperation and to scream in anticipation. This wonderful little creature is called…the Cliffhanger. **

**Sorry for that. I just felt like doing it. **

*** Ha ha! This is my friend's favorite line for a guy who likes to be a dick just to feel all macho, assert his dominance in a rude way, etc, etc****:P Uh, maybe Alex wouldn't really say that, but I was on a rant, I couldn't be stopped. Plus, when I first heard it, I thought it was hilarious. I am so, ****_so _****sorry.**

**** I loved this rant. Sorry if it feels so long, but I had fun with it. Lotsa sarcasm and pent up frustration and…stuff. I kinda had a few versions of one idea I could use but alas! I could only pick one. *mutters begrudgingly to self* Yes. My characters are a little bit emotional I guess, sorry if they seem OOC. But come on, Alex is 15 in this. He should be allowed some teenager-y-ness stuff even though he is a spy and been through hell; he has a lot to learn. But I do love fics where he is all badass.**

**Do I sound cheesy in the last line? I'm all for the dramatics. I often think up lines that I like, in the middle of a conversation, watching a movie, reading a book, etc, and then I have to incorporate that into my story. Ugh. And then there are some like this one that just spill out. Or I can alter already-used lines to suit me. I kind of think that he would be conscious in a few seconds, a ringing would appear, things would just kind of fade out, the edges of his vision would fade into black and it would overwhelm his vision. Just speculating. **

**Please, please, please. Any tips would be welcome. What did you like? What was kind of iffy? Etc. I am still working on my writing, and feedback would be awesome. If there are any spelling mistakes or anything like that, please let me know. **

**Please R&R. **

**~ryddance**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Date: 9/6/14**

**Disclaimer: Refer to previous chapter.**

**Warnings for blood, language, violence, etc. Just Beware.**

**I am SO sorry for the long absence. I do have a few excuses up my sleeve. 1) My bad. I got caught up in reading sooo many 50k+ worded fics in some other fandoms. That took up a couple weeks of summer. Had to get my reading in before it's early nights and a shit ton of homework. 2) My MS Word Trial expired. Took me forever to remember that this thing has WordPad. It sucks. And I don't really like to write on the Doc Manager-I don't know why. 3) Catching up with some 'long-time-no-see' friends and spending lotsa time with them. :) 4) Life happens and it happens at its desired speed. :|**

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Chapter 2

Yassen didn't pause to contemplate who had shot the assassin who held Alex. He ran forward and grabbed Alex before he could fully impact with the floor, whilst brushing aside the body of Alex's assailant. _No, _he thought, numbness and disbelief and anger welling up inside him while his schooled his outward expression to be intent and alert. As Yassen scooped up Alex's limp body, he had to jerk out of the way of one of his comrades who was delivering a killing blow to his opponent. At the moment, Yassen didn't care. He just needed to get Alex to safety.

Cradling Alex in his arms bridal-style, Yassen swiftly weaved through the masses. He barged through doors until he found a quiet room, perhaps a conference room, which looked easy enough to defend if need be.

Yassen set Alex down as gently as he could. He bent down to check for a pulse and received assurance from the rapid rush of blood beneath the skin. Alex's face was drained of color. His breathing came in short, shallow sucks.

Yassen picked up a nearby jacket that had been forgotten and balled it up. Glancing at Alex again, Yassen spotted the hilt of a knife protruding from the teen's lower chest. Right now, it was staunching the bleeding. Wrapping the jacket around to help stabilize the knife and soak up the blood, Yassen leaned back as Alex took a shuddering gasp into consciousness. He stare was unfocussed for a few seconds before sharpening slightly and settling on Yassen, who stared on impassionate, but shook his head slightly and narrowed his eyes when Alex tried to sit up.

"You are in need of medical attention which I cannot give you," he said nodding at the knife. Alex's eyes widened as he glanced down and took in the foreign object before lying back down with a soft grunt. "I will be back." Yassen started to get up when Alex shot out a hand to grab Yassens shirt. The assassin stopped to look at him.

"Why? You keep trying to recruit me and whatnot. And don't tell me it's about my father saving your life _once_." His eyes were tight with pain but he was thinking clearly.

Yassen stared at him for a second before answering slowly. "You remind me of me when I was young. Hunter did not save my life just once, he gave me the means to survive on my own. Be thankful it was him who trained me. A few seem to have rubbed off on me, if only a little." Yassen paused. "Now stay here. That wound will need attention. The blade is acting as a tourniquet, and I had best drop a tip to your comrades." Yassen was distracted by a sound in the hall, and he already had his gun drawn, aiming at the door, which burst open.

It was Ben Keller, the man Yassen had hired just less than a year ago. His weapon was drawn and pointing at Yassen even as he busted through the door.

Yassen leaned slightly over Alex and stared at Ben. The corner of his lip quirked and he raised an eyebrow.

"Drop your weapon," Ben growled.

"You first, _Keller_."

"No. That is not how this is going to go. Step away from the boy and drop your weapon. Now."

Yassen froze for a split second before stepping back and slowly lowering his gun. "You wish to help him."

"Yes. Yes I do," Ben stepped forward swiftly, never taking eye or gun off of the assassin in the room. He crouched down by Alex and murmured "How ya doing, Al?"

Alex winced as he let out a short sigh. "Gee I don't know, Ben. Just thought I'd take a breather here, what with a sharp pointy stick sticking through my ribs. How do you think I'm doing?"

Ben bit his lip. Part in worry and part in annoyance. "Yeah, uh, bad question."

"Yup. It was. How'd you know we were here?"

"I saw it. I woulda shot the bloke, but _he_," Ben nodded to Yassen. "Shot the guy first. I got held up, and went to find you once I'd dealt with it."

Yassen watched this with a blank expression, like he'd already known. His suspicions that Keller was no good proved true, only he wasn't from a rival criminal organization, but from MI6.

"You know each other." It was a statement, a fact, not a question. Ben froze and glared dangerously at the assassin. Alex nearly sputtered in laughter because the only person he could have learned a glare like that was from Wolf.

"Now is not the time for pleasantries, and you don't deserve explanations." He kept his gun trained on Yassen. "Al, can you get up for me?"

Alex stared at with indecipherable eyes before making a small movement to get up. He barely managed to get an inch off the ground before collapsing with a gasping cough. His face twisted grudgingly. "I'll need help getting up. I'll be fine when I'm on my feet."

"You are anything but fine, Alex."

Yassen intercepted. "I will pick him up, if you let me, and support him to safety."

Ben just stared at him for a long pause. "If you try anything, I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your brain."

Yassen dipped his head once in understanding. He wrapped an arm under Alex's arms, hoisting him up to his feet and holding him up as his legs buckled. He paused and allowed the dazed expression on the young spy's face to fade away before setting his weight down more fully, still providing support should Alex suddenly need it.

With Ben at the ready, they made their way into the hall. The SAS had sent in reinforcements and now Yassen's forces were trying to retreat—Yassen scowled at that.

Ben led them away from the heart of all the mayhem. Yassen's men might not take a shot at him or Alex, whom he was supporting, but an MI6 agent might if it meant a chance to kill the world reknowned assassin. On the other side of things, an assassin might attempt to take out Ben.

"Alright, we need to get Alex out of here."

"Ben, I'm right here. I _can_ hear you, you know," the boy in question wheezed.

"And I am truly thankful that you can."

Yassen stopped when Alex suddenly doubled up into a coughing fit. His eyes squeezed shut and his fist scrunched up Yassen's shirt. Ben waited tensely with worry lining his eyes. It seemed to take forever for Alex to recover. When he stood straighter he wiped his mouth, twisting his face into a grimace when his wrist came away bloody. The sickening salty-sweet taste of blood coated his mouth.

"Alex…"

"I know, Ben. I can last awhile longer." Alex used Yassen, who stood sternly, to push himself up, knees buckling when he twisted. Yassen guided him down to lean on a wall, and he hunched around the knife.

Yassen stared at the youth's pale, clammy face. He was hiding his pain astonishingly well.

"No." The assassin spoke the one word with finality. "You don't need to be running around. That will cut you to ribbons."

Alex rolled his eyes weakly. "Ben. What about the comms?"

"Mine was taken out by the guy who attacked me on my way to find you."

"Fantastic."

"I think you and I have different ideas of 'fantastic'," Ben muttered to himself before falling silent, trying to think of a better way of getting help. He sighed.

"I have to go get help. Alex. I'll be back."

Yassen broke in swiftly. "I will stay with him."

"Like hell! You would either kill him to get it over with and disappear, or abandon him and disappear. Either way you get away."

"I can assure you I will not harm him. Just as I would do my best to make sure he comes to no further harm," Yassen replied silkily.

Ben opened his mouth only to be interrupted by a mumble. "Damn it you two. Stop bickering like the grumpy old men you are and do something or haven't you noticed the human pincushion here."

The corner of Yassen's lips twitched as Ben's face flushed. "Fine. Move into here." He peeked into a dim room near them. Finding it empty, they shuffled into it. The soft carpet muffled their footsteps and would provide a little more cushion for Alex, whom they moved to a corner.

He moved to pat Yassen down for weapons. As he did so, he rumbled a low threat. "If you let anything happen to him, I will find you. Anything I do would not be under the orders of MI6." Once he was satisfied, he paused to glance at them before he vanished.

The room was left filled with an erie silence but for the low hum of a single fluorescent light in the far edge of the room. The harsh _whoosh_ of a computer jerked the both Alex and Yassen's attention to the machine. Alex's widened eyes closed briefly in relief. When he opened them, he saw Yassen crouch by the wall next to Alex.

The move had exhausted Alex, and his rasping breaths even out slightly despite the chest wound. His racing heart slowed to a hard _thud-a thud-a thud-a _and his face sagged in weariness.

Yassen kept his eyes and an ear on the door, but glanced at Alex when he heard a lessening in his breathing. The pained eyes of his temporary charge met his own. Yassen's brow knit together in question.

Alex took the invitation. "Who told you I was unwilling?"

Yassen paused a moment before answering fluently. "By now, I know you realize the dangers of this life. I thought about how I warned you. You had no mind to listen. I understand now why. In short, I fit the pieces together, and you confirmed it."

"So I did. And-"

Alex froze mid-speech as they heard quiet footfalls outside the door. They waited until long after the soft steps faded before relaxing slightly.

"Why can't you just order them not to kill me?"

"Unfortunately, some of these men have grudges against you. Whether it is the idea of you, personal, or because you ruined major business projects for them. Some of them are prickly, as you would say. Some might go rogue on me just to kill you. Others would brood. None of which makes building an organization easy. Therefore it is easiest if I keep us hidden and avoid question being asked and loyalties questioned."

"In other words, they are not nearly professional as you," his underlying tone sarcastic.

"Mostly. I have had to learn to keep a tight control over my feelings."

"I just wouldn't think you would pick a whole bunch of fools to be a part of you ever-so-elite organization."

Yassen shrugged. "Ends to a mean. Most of them will die before it is fully recognized."

Alex bared his teeth in spite. "Still think that thing will materialize, d'ya?"

Yassen's answer was cool. "Yes, I do, little Alex." As the last word left his mouth, the door burst open. He bit out a curse in Russian and automatically reached for a gun that wasn't there.

Five men poured into the room. Two of them trained their guns on Yassen, while the other three rushed to Alex with a stretcher. Snake set his gear down and smiled concernedly down at Alex.

"Hello, Cub. I heard you got yourself in a bit of a bind."

"That might be one way to put it." Alex started to unwrap the nearly-forgotten jacket, which was now soaked in blood, but Snake rushed to stop him.

"Fox told me. I just want to make sure you get out of here." Snake's quick hands set to work. Alex noted with surprise how warm and gentle his hands were in contrast to the SAS hardened soldier.

Eagle stood by. His gut clenched as he took in the drained teenager that lay bloody on the floor. The crimson that had been slowly leaking around the knife had leached into the jacket. The corner of Cub's mouth was smudged with his blood, standing out against the pale skin. As Eagle stood, waiting for any command from Snake, he noticed the drooping lids.

"Cub! Wake up." The wake-up call did its job. Alex jerked awake with a startled suck. The sharp breath set him to coughing. Doubling up reflexively at the pain each hack caused, he screwed his eyes shut as tears slid from under the closed lids. A sickening salty-sweet sprayed his throat and tongue. He sagged out of his fit as a cold feeling swept through his body, leaving him shivering. His head swam, and he was dizzy, like he had just spun around in a million circles and come to a sudden stop as the world kept going. Weakness flooded his limbs as he cracked his eyes. The dragging weight of every muscle prevented him from so much as twitching a finger, not that he even had the strength to try.

He dimly registered the mumbling shouts of...someone...and shuffling feet. And the day just kept getting dimmer. The pretty lights... Shadows ate the edges of the sun, and a thought oozed across his sluggish mind: '_It was such a pretty day'._

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**So. That's the second chapter of "The Path Untraveled". **

**Classes have started. Several AP classes and Honors classes. Hopefully AP English will help with creative writing. I have no clue yet.**

**Tell me what you think. It is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are a 'my bad'. I live for the reviews! Without them, I have no clue whether or not people like this.**

**~ryddance**


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